4* j^t
-
f^m
r
*
V'
2t* S
*»»**»»
X
4
i i
mm ■!
>
#■
&S&f
■ t
L
ft
^AtP
V ® 1 1 » *
HI
4- 4t
1
•1 #
JL
f*
\'^->
-tr
fei
'V
i
*
**
4
lw
LIBRARY
Brigham Young University
AMERICANA /RARE
.*.'
SITTING BULL
CUSTER
)./%^^ t&looo -!U~S<LwJ
£*~Z «-«- <? ^L'£ZZ*Za~*-*
9-*c*o-t,-
J-CS $_
A^ J/ /fijj^^i A— ^^— ^
766
WINONA
Sitting Bull-Custer
By
A. AcG. BEEDE
ILLUSTRATED
BISMARCK TRIBUNE CO.
Bismarck, North Dakota
Copyright 1913, by
A. AcG. BEEDE
All rights reserved, including that of translation into
foreign languages, including Scandinavian
THE AUTHOR
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to the soul of Simaqua, a
noble Chippewa woman. Joyful in youth, separated
by Fate from Sakan'ku, her lover, for fifty years, mar-
rying him when she was 70 years old, affectionately
laboring with him till strength failed them both, she
finally died, aged 103 years, of slow starvation, be-
cause of the awkward system of "Indian Affairs" by
whioh the U. S. government exhausts Indian re-
sources in "administration," while leaving the old and
infirm generally to suffer. I believe she was a saint.
She did not complain of her lot, or blame anyone.
A. McG. Beede.
PUBLISHER'S PREFACE
It is nothing more than fair that the author of this
work, who is an excellent gentleman, a student, a
scholar, a man of wide experience and an earnest and
faithful worker in his Master's vineyard, be given an
introduction and recommendation to the reader, in
order that it may be thoroughly understood who he is,
and that confidence may be established in him before
the reader begins. It is believed that the reader, thus
familiarized with the author, will find a keener interest
in the work, for he may rest assured it is as authen-
tic as any work of a similar nature can be. It is
worked out from the actual .cenes, actual occurrences,
actual statements of the characters depicted; the lan-
guage and construction merely being the polished gem
as it appears when worked out from the crude, original
state. First let the reader understand this one thing:
There is no more beautiful romance in the world than
that of the Indian; his life is filled with it; his legends
are most beautiful and his logic and reasonings won-
derful; his tendency is kind and loving; he is the
most misunderstood creature on earth, and the author
is appreciative of these facts.
Aaron McGaffey Beede, Ph. D., a. priest of the Epis-
copal church, laboring among Indians, has had good
opportunity for knowing the things about which he
writes. He knows many times more than he writes.
First knowing Indians when a boy, he has alwavs
studied them. His position has been such as afford-
ed him opportunity for careful, hrst-hand study of
human nature in all its forms and phases. In Germany
he tram: ed 1,500 miles with vagrants for the purpose
of learning how they lived and regarded life. He
has tented with Gypsies as a learner. He is per-
fectly at ease with all sorts of men, from the camp-
fires of the Indians to the city clubs. He is not a
cynic or a pessimist. He avers that human nature is
unimpeachable and while liking a tent or a log shack,
with a bear for his company, yet he meets a refined
lady with ease and with dignity. He thinks indi-
viduals should always follow their own tastes and in-
stincts where imperative principle is not involved.
The life-long students of Indians, living at Bismarck
and vicinity, realize that he knows Indians. For many
years he has been constantly with Indians. Some
may have been with them more years, but none have
studied them more conscientiously, and the true worth
of his observations and opinions as recognized by his-
torical societies, attests to his reliability.
In this drama it is his intention to give the Indian
view of a great tragedy. He intends also to show that
the old Sioux Indian religion was something more than
a "huge joke." He says "As long as a people's re-
ligion is despised, the people themselves must be des-
pised, though unjustly." His efforts are to be com-
mended, and it is believed his drama will be heartily
appreciated and that it will be given a wide circulation.
The style of his literature is simple, yet beautiful. His
monogram regarding Sitting Bull may be challenged
at some points, but the challenger will meet an able
and honest defender of his thesis, for Sitting Bull was
probably the most misunderstood of all Indian leaders.
In closing, let the reader be impressed with the
authenticity of this narrative, and remember that it
portrays many facts and phases of the conditions,
scenes and occurrences which led up to and took place
during the greatest tragedy of the American conti-
nent's savagery and which our historians have not
thoroughly understood.
The undersigned takes pleasure in recommending
Rev. A. McG. Beede and his drama which follows
herewith.
Respectfully,
The Bismarck Tribune Company.
SITTING BULL
CUSTER
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
This book is something new. It gives a picture of
the "Custer Massacre," so called, as Indians themselves
saw the battle. The whole picture would be too large.
The glimpse I give of the entire picture will be more
vivid and real than the whole picture would be.
The Sitting Bull speeches in the drama are based
on his own sentences as he used them on various occa-
sions. And I have truthfully depicted his persona]
ambition, among his other habits. Not unwilling to
face Sitting Bull with my honest intent, I give this
drama and book to the public without apology.
If stage artists wish for more of the harrowing de-
tails I wish they would obtain true Indian material
from me, or from some reliable source. I do not care
to write more of the harrowing scenes myself. It
gives a sense of pain which is too real. The agony of
that half-hour in the desert must be left with that sea
of human agony which "human beings cannot fathom.
If eyes of creatures weeping
Were tumbling 'neath the deep,
The surface wider creeping,
Would lull the shore to sleep.
Unable to give all the Dakota (Sioux) chiefs a place
in the drama, I let Chief Gall represent all of them.
I am sure this would meet with their approval. He
was, by common consent, the genius who won the day
for the struggling Dakotas (Sioux). All of these
chiefs, excepting Peji (now called John Grass), have
gone to that land where all races meet together.
For an account of my sources of information, and
a sketch of the persons depicted in the drama, one
should read the back pages of this book before he
reads the drama.
W. A. Stickler, A. B. Welch and C. H. Fish have
my hearty thanks for advice and assistance in the pro-
duction of this book.
A. McGaffey Beede.
THE SCENE
An Indian village on the Little Big Horn river,
Montana. At dawn, June 25, 1876. S. Bull
will go to a "medicine booth" by a thicket on the
river to learn from "holy ones" what will soon
happen. There is a suspicion that he does not
"tell out" what "holy ones" tell him, and so six
persons, Echonka, Gall, Rain-in-the-Face, Old-
man, Old-woman, and Cld-woman-diviner, are
concealed near the booth to spy.
Fool-mink, a "happy-hooligan" Indian "Story-
teller-and-Singer," is everywhere present. His
"crazy ways" please the "holy ones," and so S.
Bull is glad to have him present.
Before S. Bull arrives Fool-mink dances along
to the spies singing a seventh cavalry song, as
he once heard it on a piano at Fort Yates post.
The words are his own. The air of the song re-
minds Rain-in-the-Face of the time when Tom
Custer handcuffed him at the Post, and so en-
rages him.
There is music (not singing) by the "holy
ones" continuously. To an Indian, music is the
unvoiced melody of "holy ones," and is the via
sacra into the great regions of the occult. The
words in brackets will, I hope, give some idea
of the kind of music which an Indian ear would
require. Other ears will suit themselves.
CHIEF GALL
Old Mother Yellow Eye (Copyright by F. B. Fiske)
THE OLD WOMAN
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SCENE I
THE SPIES WATCH SITTING BULL
FOOL-MINK
(Comes to the spies singing.)
(Far-azvay mellow, percussion peals.)
Mi-la, la-la-la-la, Do-do, do-do-do-do.
Mi-la-la-ia-piano-do-do-do-do-tone.
Don't tell the "mellow story"
in the morning blown,
With zephyrs from the dawning
over hills and streams,
While meadow-larks awaking
tell their happy dreams.
The campfire in the evening
tells its prophesy,
The tom-tom music leaping,
tells its rhapsody;
The spiders tiptoe coming,
tip-toe, glide along,
The "gnost-bells" in the evening
tell their happy song.
(Ecstatic, trilling tones.)
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
{Pf
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Clutching Fool-mink.)
I'll gag you with a moccasin,
If you don't gag that Fort Yates ghost!
It makes you sing that Custer-song
The soldiers sang at Fort Yates Post
The day Tom Custer handcuffed me.
He meant to hang me ! I was smart
Enough to get away. I swore
Revenge, and I will have his heart !
FOOL-MINK
(Singing and laughing.)
Your little eyes are like a mole,
You better dig a little hole,
And hide yourself a little while,
Till you can smile a little smile.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Shaking him.)
I'll face Tom Custer!
FOOL-MINK
(Singing and laughing.)
Bye and bye,
When he's a ghost — and so will I.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Jerking him.)
I'll eat his heart!
FOOL-MINK
(Singing and laughing.)
The worms won't eat
Your heart, if they have sweeter meat.
GALL
(Clutching each with either hand.)
You stop this noisy brawl, or I
Will gag you both ! We're here to spy.
Keep still, and watch for Sitting Bull.
Page two
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Sneering.)
His tricks are something wonderful!
fool-mink
(Singing loud.)
"The holy man, great Sitting Bull!
His medicine is wonderful !"
GALL
(Throwng them apart.)
Now you stay there ! And you stay there,
Fool-mink, and "braid that crazy hair!"'
(Fool-mink goes to braiding his hair.)
OLD-MAN
(To Rain-in-the-Facc.)
Your envious mind cannot applaud
Another Indian.
RAIN-IN-TIIE-FACE
(Sharply.)
He's a fraud!
GALL
(In a lozv voice.)
He comes! Keep still, and watch his acts
And words. We want to know the facts!
OLD-WOMAN-DIVINEIi
It's mean to spy !
GALL
But this will prove
Him true, if he is true— If not,
We'll see his tricks, and he is caught !
OLD-WOMAN-DIVINER
(As he conies.)
Ah, what a noble man he is!
And yet he has his enemies.
Page three
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
(S. Bull comes to the booth dressed simply —
moccasins with high leggings, a neat blanket
rcachina low, and a buckskin shirt under it, open
in front and showing his neck and massive upper-
chest. His hair is carefully braided. He looks
at the dawn wistfully, then looks into the booth.
Then by rubbing pieces of zvood taken from be-
neath his blanket, he starts a "sacred fire." Put-
ting fagots on the fire, he sits down on the
ground before the booth, south of the fire.)
SITTING BULL
(Speaking rapidly.)
(Jolly-quick monor music.)
The Whiteman calls us savages.
How cleverly he manages
His tricks ! He'll check our enemies,
He tells us, — then our land is his !
He'll teach us how to worship God, —
That means, obey his every nod!
To make us safe, he'll build a fort,
He says. Ha, ha, and then for sport
He'll kill our game ! With hunting gone,
There'll come a "civilizing" dawn, —
For him ! Despair for us ! They know
That when our "sacred cattle" go,
We die. We cannot climb the sky
And be with ghosts till bye and bye !
The Whitemen have their bedbugs frisky,
And rats and mice and lice, — and whiskey;
They take their partner Dy the "mid-way,"
And dance their merry twirling "jig-way,"
And we are savages, because
We have our wholesome, simple laws !
(He puts fagots, on the fire, looks at the dazvn
and listens earnestly. Then he gases at the fire,
then sits down and speaks.)
(Tremolo minor music.)
There'll be a battle soon, I feel
Afraid. No "holy ones" reveal
To me how this event will turn.
I know their haughty armies spurn
»)
Page four
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Our weapons- — well, Great Spirit's eye
Is over all, and if we die,
There'll be a larger spirit-world.
Will haughty banners there unfurled
Out-shine our own? Ah, that would give
Our hearts repining! While I live
I'll kiss the gun and still defy
The Whiteman's arrogance ! — Then die.
FOOL-MINK
(Singing and dancing by S. B.)
I'll never yield, I never will,
While trout can find a merry rill,
Where they can hide their gleeful noses,
And cricKets sing among the roses.
SITTING BULL
(Standing by the fire.)
(High-keyed minor music.)
Ha ha, the "sacred fire" is singing,
And "ghost bells" in the flame are ringing.
The voices have a wailing cry;
This means a battle. Who will die?
FOOL-MINK
(Out by a tree, singing.)
I'm shaking like a crazy leaf,
I'm twitching like a captured thief.
A crazy snake right here by me,
Is climbing up a hollow tree.
(Sitting Bull takes ashes from the fire in his
hand, and sozvs. them in the breeze, meamvhile
speaking.)
SITTING BULL
(Discordant lozv minor music.)
Like ashes taken from the fire,
And scattered, so are treaties till
We win a battle ! Thev desire
Our land, and that is why they kill
The people ! We would gladly flee
And leave their thieving treachery,
But where? The earth is full of fear.
Page five
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
There is no place where we can flee.
The avaricious Whitemen rear
Their Christian forts from sea to sea !
There's Custer, Crook and Terry — that's
Not all. They come like thieving rats.
(Pausing a moment, he continues sorrowfully.)
(Soft minor, quavering monotone.)
Could not compassion spare the land
To us, between the "Rockies" and
The old Missouri river ? No !
Their treaty reads, "While rivers flow
And hills abide, this land is yours."
The greedy heart of man ignores
What fingers write in treaties. We
Are friendly. We would sooner flee
Than fight. At bay before the foe,
We hear the wicked bugle blow.
Unless God helps us win a battle.
The Sioux must give their homes to cattle.
The "stock-men" hunger for our land.
Their hunger has a cruel hand.
Ah, this is it — to rob and steal
Is all there is to Christian weal.
With Christian water on his head
An Indian's manliness has fled.
Our fathers' spirits lingering here,
Behold Injustice's cruel tear,
And gliding mid the trees and flowers,
Vouchsafe the Sioux propitious hours !
I'll ask the oracle once more
To tell the good, or ill, in store!
Page six
SCENE II
SITTING BULL FORETELLS THE BATTLE
(Abruptly he rises and goes into the booth to
prepare the "holy medicine" for the oracle. The
curtain falls. "Red Wing," or similar music, is
given. When the curtain rises he is pouring the
"holy medicine" from a rawhide pouch into a
wooden bowl two feet east of the fire. Return-
ing the pouch to the booth, he sits doivn.)
FOOL- MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
(Far-away percussion minor peals of music.)
Let's try to hide like minks, and breathe
What bonny air we can beneath
The water. I was born a mink.
Beneath a muskrat house I'll sink.
And they will tear the house away,
And look for me in vain. They'll say,
Fool-mink has dodged the gun today.
And while they look and peep, you see
My water-colored nose will be
Just even with the water, Ho-o ! !
The Whitemen's eyes are dull, you know.
One finger-tap would drive me down,
And then Fool-mink, Oh, I should drown.
But Whitemen's eyes can't see a nose,
Unless a coughing creature blows
Its nose. I'll breathe the bonny air
Close bv the soldiers unaware.
4n
Page seven
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Ti-li-li-li, I'll breathe the air.
Ta-lu-lu-lu, they'll look and stare.
Wa-hoo-hoo-hoo, they'll curse and swear.
SITTING BULL
(Perplexed.)
(Tenor minor monotones, broken notes.)
The mink-souls born in him advise
Concealment. I think otherwise.
One battle bravely fought removes
The taunt of cowardice. It proves
That we have pluck. The truth apart
From weapons has a teasing heart,
Arousing their sarcastic grin.
The truth must firmly fight to win
Its way with savage Whitemen. They
Are cowards with artillery.
If Indians argue righteousness,
They promise, then withhold redress.
But will my Indian warriors fight,
Or will they fire, then flee? The flight
Of Crook gives courage — also fear.
My warriors know the end is near
And fear of dangling in the air
When caught, deters them. I'm aware
Of that. I'd sooner have my feet
Down on the "holy earth" than meet
The ghosts while hanging. There's a twang
Of dread in hanging. I'll not hang!
Whoever else may strangle, I
Will kiss the gun and bravely die.
(Shrill minor, ending in a trill calling to the
dead.)
"A massacre!" they called it. Forty
Choked like dogs in Minnesota !
For what? With hope of justice gone,
Grim desperation hurled them on.
If Whitemen die, it's "massacre!"
If Indians die, it's "hip-hurrah !"
(While Sitting Bull looks at the "medicine-
bowl" despairingly, because it does not move,
Fool-mink dances and sings.)
Page eight
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
(Merry minor monotone.)
I'd sooner swim, I'd sooner fly,
I'd sooner have a wife than die
By hanging. Sitting Bull and I
Are twins. We laugh, we sing, we cry.
And if you ask me why I cry,
I'll tell you. Portents in the sky.
When I was born, made me a mink;
And minks have tearful eyes, I think.
I'm jolly as a mink can be,
I dance, 1 sing with merry glee.
And when today I feel some sorrow,
I take a fishing trip tomorrow.
SITTING BULL
(Looking at the bowl.)
(Far-off quavering minor.)
He-he, he-he, my heart is sad,
The days are gone that made me glad.
I've seen that bowl go round the fire,
With nothing save its own desire
And God to help. It moves no more
To tell us good, or ill in store.
My hopes grow fainter every hour.
If Indian warriors get a taste
Of reservation beef and flour,
Such pleasing luxuries will waste
Their loyalty to me, their chief.
I fear the Whiteman's promised beef.
Men bocst of freedom — precious gem !
Then appetite makes slaves of them.
And while they're fed, relentless bands
Are twisted round their willing hands.
Starvation doesn't bother much,
Till starving men consent to touch
A cunning villain's luxuries.
They take his meat, then they are his!
The Mandans had experience.
They took the ration stores, "immense !
Now Mandans boil a rawhide door
>)
Page nine
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
For food ! They're men no more !
I know the Whiteman's treachery
Beneath his promised "charity."
A reservation Indian, Ha !
An eagle caught ! A weeping star !
A wailing ghost in endless grief !
They vow to give, then steal the beef!
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
( One-heavy-three-light tom-tom strokes.)
Any wild bugle suits my ear,
Only don't bring a cannon here ;
Any piano suits my wits,
Only don't blow my brains to bits.
Any new thing will do for a fool,
Only don't send a fool to school;
Turnips and buffalo meat are good,
Beef, I dare say, is decent food.
SITTING BULL
(In despair.)
(Dying tenor minor discords.)
And must I cease to be a chief,
And be applauded? There's the grief!
No more a chief! I'd sooner die
Than have the people cease to cry,
"The holy man, great Sitting Bull !
His medicine is wonderful !"
Does not each Whiteman seek renown?
Because I seek it, wherefore frown?
My cause is just. The Whiteman wishes
To make us dogs to lick his dishes !
I am not trying to expand
Our twice-restricted treaty land.
I have had nopes. My hopes are dead.
They're sleeping where my people bled
And died in vain. I simply try
To save our homes. And Whitemen cry,
"The trouble-maker, Sitting Bull !
His warfare is detestable !"
My hopes are dead, yet I defy
Such arrogance, and here I'll die!
Page ten
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
(The bowl suddenly moves and circles several
times round the fire, and rests in front of him —
a good omen.)
(Mystic wierd melody.)
SITTING BULL
(Chanting.)
Ha ha, the bowl !
The Great One's soul
Is in the bowl !
It throbs with life, it sings, it moves.
It circles round the fire. This proves
That "holy ones" from heaven are sent.
This day will be no accident !
I prayed to know, and now I fear
To know what destiny is here !
Mysterious voices coming near me
Speak hopefully to me and cheer me.
Perhaps this coming war will turn
As I have hoped. O let me learn,
Thou Great Mysterious One, if this
Grim battle-day will bring us bliss !
If my three thousand men are true,
Like Custer's soldiers dressed in blue,
We're safe today. But timid lack
Of confidence may hurl us back.
An omen, "something holy," given,
Would make faint valor leap to heaven
There's nothing quite impossible
In heaven. Show vis a miracle !
(Muffled, laughing music.)
Whitemen with occult vision dead
From whiskey lead them on, instead
Of captains. This is my chief hope.
Whiskey makes good spirits mope
Away disgustedly, destroys
The occult powers of men, makes toys
Of giants, courts disaster, fills
The soul with arrogance, and kills
Compassion. Half men's woes are due
To this ill drink which devils brew.
From this good bowl, O let me learn
How this terrific day will turn !
Pape eleven
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
(Feeling the trance coming over him, he cov-
ers his face with his hand-palms and bends for-
ward like a section of a circle. The profile view
of the figure covered with the yellowish white
blanket is zveird and awe-inspiring. His soul
has ceased to be conscious of things present, and
is traveling away in search of the armies. The
spies converse among themselves.)
(Undulating minor monotone.)
OLD-WOMAN DIVINER.
You saw the bowl go round the fire.
Do you believe?
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
But he's a liar!
His dream will tell what's coming true !
But this one man alone will view
The thing. On him it all depends.
He'll twist the thing to suit his ends.
OLD-WOMAN DIVINER.
But we are listening here. Don't miss
The spirit voices.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
Artifice !
He's cute ! Perhaps he knows we're here.
OLD-MAN
An envious man is full of fear.
OLD-WOMAN-DIVINER.
I'm glad he speaks out loud while dreaming,
So yau can hear the vision's meaning.
OLD-WOMAN.
A disappointed man will always scold.
What makes you always try to mar
The fame of one who never told
A lie? He's true as dewdrops are!
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
(Full of wrath.)
We fought the Crows. When all was o'er
Twice twenty men were dead, and more
Page tzvelve
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Than these were wounded. Now they sing
His praises. All the eagles wing
His fame on high. But no one heeds
The unpretentious man who bleeds
His life away. His holy lie
Makes vision-loving people cry,
"The holy man, great Sitting Bull !
His medicine is wonderful !"
He never fights. He prophesies!
Then women laud him to the skies.
Our weapons kill the foe as well
Without the things his dreams foretell
Each morning. I'm disgusted. Let
The humbugged women have their pet !
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
It's pity how you groan and cry,
And bleed and die ! You'll never die
From wounds received in battle. I
Have seen you skulk when foes were nigh.
(Rain-in-the-Face leaps for Fool-mink, but
Gall seizes him.)
GALL
(To Rain-in-the-Face.)
Just hear his words while spirits move
His speaking in this rhapsody.
And what we six shall hear, will prove
Him true, or show his infamy.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
(Yielding to Gall.)
O yes, he'll fool us till we die,
While all the humbugged people cry,
"The holy man, great Sitting Bull !
His medicine is wonderful !"
(Sitting Bull has become rigid as a statue, and
motionless as a sphinx. Amid pauses he speaks
in a far-away weird, ghostly voice, zvell known
to Indians. On seeing such things among In-
dians I haze sometimes asked myself, What is the
us.e of the fire, the "holy medicine" and the "sac-
Page thirteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
V
red bowl?" Then I remember that all religion
has its "media sacra," while the last analysis of
all is psychic and spiritual.)
SITTING BULL
(Light tom-tom tenor touches.)
Great Yellowhair himself will come
Before the west receives the sun.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
(Quickly.)
And you'll believe so strange a word
As that? Why, every child has heard
How Custer kissed a bow and swore
He'd fight with Indians nevermore !
SITTING BULL
He's coming on a mighty steed.
The steed, like Custer, does not heed
How many Indians. O how brave
He is ! ha, ha, what makes him shave
His moustache ! I would hardly know
The man ! And yet his two eyes glow
With splendid valor ! O how brave !
He'd plunge into an open grave
To meet a foe ! His bravery
Has pleasing, doubtful destiny.
FOOL-MINK
White-women make their husbands shave,
I've heard, or wear a beastly beard. It's just
As any morning's notion may behave —
Today's delight, tomorrow's quick disgust.
SITTING BULL
His men are heroes ! They'll not care
For death ! They're men to do and dare !
Each soldier with his glittering gun
A star ! Great Custer is the sun !
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing by Sitting Bull.)
We'll fly away from here like geese.
With every word my fears increase.
Must I stay here and sing and sneeze?
No, I'll be going, if you please.
Page fourteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SITTING BULL
His curious thoughts that make him bold
Are many colored, many souled.
OLD-MAN.
Divisions in his camp, we'll win !
Defeat is sure when discords grin.
SITTING BULL.
(Silvery triumphant major.)
Great Custer speaks. I hear him say,
"Brave action crushes calumny.
No lies can crush a glittering fact,
If man, ignoring self, will act.
I'm not a man without a flaw,
What man has not his foibles ? Pshaw !
Courtmartial me! For what? To blight
My name ! I swear, by yonder light
Of morning, I've no serious wrong!
The truth will flame abroad ere long.
Their teeth shall bite the dust today,
A soldier's grave can sing a lay
Of praise, while foibles dare not peep,
And those who twisted foibles sleep
Forgotten. They suppose I shrink
From death as they do. As they think
They judge me. Open your sweet jaws,
Brave Death, and swallowing petty flaws,
Make Custer's rightful honor bright
And clean as youthful morning light !
(Silvery weird tremulo music.)
To die ! To die gives them the shame,
And me, I ask no word of fame,
Save this, — that ere I slept in dust
My scanty life was true and just."
He pauses, waves his lifted hand.
He's beckoning toward the spirit land.
ECHONKA
(Music halts.)
Great soul ! He'll be victorious.
His men will trample over us !
Page fifteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing by Sitting Bull.)
(Light tripping music.)
If I could only dive and hide,
Like jolly minks and Mandans, I'd
Go fishing for a little while,
Till this grim day would frown or smile.
Come, Rainy Face, come on, let's go ;
We'll hide and live a day or so,
While braver men leap to and fro,
And "ghost-bells" ring and bugles blow.
What "holy ones" are saying peeves
Your heart. We'll hide among the leaves;
We'll say we didn't, we'll say we did,
And that was why we ran and hid.
(Rain-in-the-Facc leaps for Fool-mink, and he
skips away.)
SITTING BULL.
(Far-azvay martial percussion. I
In every move his men are brave
As old-time heroes were, How brave !
If I had men like them to fight
For me, I'd win what's mine by right !
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
(Snappishly.)
(One clang, then music stops.)
How trickingly his thought advances !
His artifice creates his trances.
There's something more in all these speeches,
Than simple occult vision reaches.
OLD-WOMAN-DIVINER.
(Soothingly.)
It's not his voice. The truthful voice
Of spirits makes true men rejoice.
SITTING BULL.
(Weird ebbing music.)
Great Yellowhair and all are dead,
Ere half one battle-hour is sped.
Page sixteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
OLD- WOMAN-DIVINER.
A miracle !
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE.
(Angrily.)
(Occasional musical discords.)
For Sitting Bull!
And I am grieved. My heart is full
Of bitterness. God helps this man,
While others live as best they can.
Is he more noble than the rest
Of us? Why is he always blessed?
He mopes along and finds big game,
While better hunters, full of shame,
Come home with nothing; cry all night
To "something holy"; morning light
Gives hope, noon brings a hare in sight.
It's hares for us, big game for him.
There's "something holy" in this grim
Sad world, which gives him constant light.
Can such partiality be right?
FOOL-MINK
(Singing.)
("Give-away dance music")
His nature makes him always free
To help a begging fool like me.
OLD-MAN.
(A trembling voice.)
He gives away the game he hunts
To those who thank him with cold grunts
Of envy. Any man wins fame
Who gives away his biggest game.
OLD-WOMAN.
He gives away his venison,
And that is why his medicine
Is good. Tne best his hand can pluck
He gives away for future luck
In hunting. Human charity
Gives him the power of prophesy.
Page seventeen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SITTING BULL.
(Seraphic lilting music.)
A creature bright and beautiful
Is telling me, "And Sitting Bull
Through this event shall have renown
Forever." I will no more frown
At grim disaster. Let it come
Today. Tomorrow has the sum
Of life. Truth lives. Base falsehood dies.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Sharply.)
(Painful, jarring music.)
His prophesy has truth — and lies.
There's lurking human pride within it.
He thirsts for fame — and so must win it.
A fire in his own nature gleaming,
Awakens half his holy dreaming.
OLD-WOMAN DIVINER.
Events will show it otherwise.
ECHONKA
(Leaping to his feet.)
A herald, hark ! A herald cries !
(A herald coming from up-river shouts sonor-
ously. This awakens. Sitting Bull from his trance,
and as he meets the herald the spies come also,
as if by accident.)
HERALD
(Sonorously. He enters R.)
(Bass monotone music.)
They're coming, coming. Yes a mass
Of soldiers coming to harass
Our town. They're like the leave. A boat !
Like hungry wolves they come ! They'll gloat
In eating up the people. I
Have seen them all. I've played the spy
As you commanded me, and quick
Return to camp with news. The pick
Of that great army come in haste.
There's not a day of time to waste.
Page eighteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SITTING BULL
How far away?
HERALD
Not many sleeps.
GALL
Does Custer lead them on?
HERALD
He leaps
Along like rushing fire before
A wind. Five hundred men and more
Besides a cannon.
GALL
(Startled.)
(Reverberating music.)
Ah, that gun
Means slaughter ! With the noontide sun
We'll flee ! Such firearms gloat
In carnage. I have taken note
Of them.
HERALD
(Sonorously.)
(Agitated music.)
I hurried back as soon
As possible. There was no moon
By night. I made a circle through
The hills and forests. Custer threw
His line of scouts so wide away
I had to use great care by day,
And nights were dark. A bullet put
My horse to sleep. I came on foot
With all my might. I left the troops
Behind five days ago. Their whoops
Mean slaughter. We must flee, or die.
SITTING BULL
(Taking his hand.)
(Soft trilling music.)
I'm pleased with what you've clone to spy.
You're weary. Go to my own ten':
Page nineteen
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
And rest. If soldiers come here spent
And tired like yon, their limbs will not
Allow retreat. We have them caught.
Give no alarm. Let warriors rest.
A few of us will plan what's best.
(The curtain falls,, then rises showing a hastily
called council at a little before noon. A few men
are seated in a circle on the ground, while a few
half-seen faces of men and women are looking
on. The lighted "sacred pipe" is presented to the
Heavens, the Earth, the North, the East, the
South and the West, and then it is passed around
the circle. Music before the curtain ris.es.)
Page twenty
SCENE 111
THE SUDDEN BATTLE ENDS THE COUNCIL
AN OLD MAN.
(Rising, leaning on a cane.)
(Plaintive music.)
We'll rouse the sleeping warriors. They
Should know that war may come today.
GALL
(Rising.)
No danger. They will prowl about
And spy. They simply come to scout.
SITTING BULL
(Rising.)
Great Yellowhair is bold as fire,
And burning with intense desire
For vict'ry. Though his men are few,
No man can tell what he may do.
AN OLD MAN.
(Stooping and crippled.)
(Pathetic zvcird music.)
The faithful warriors danced all night
For vict'ry o'er the Crows. With light
Of dawn they sang and went to rest.
Another battle soon will test
Their strongest valor. Let them sleep,
While maidens dance and widows weep.
Page twenty-one
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
bi
Y
With vict'ry won, some hearts must grieve
For old familiar friends, who leave
This realm of earthly life, and go
Where spirit zephyrs softly blow.
The living — they are few. The ghosts
Of creatures dying are the hosts.
The battle with the Crows was fierce
And long, but untold grief will pierce
Our hearts, if Custer comes today.
Let warriors sleep, while sleep they may.
It's merry dancing, silent sleeping,
Wipes out the cruel pain of weeping.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
(Full of self satisfaction.)
(Occasional mock-heroic musical strains.)
I've told now I escaped when I
Was jailed. I watched, I leaped. I lie?
Not I! I'm true, I'm brave! I'll die
If I have cause! I'm ready! I
Will face Tom Custer! I — I will!
I'll meet him, I've no fear ! I'll spill
His blood! I'll have his heart! I'll be
Revenged on him — he handcuffed me.
(Unexpectedly, and contrary to custom, a
woman leaps to the center of the circle and
speaks in a high-keyed soft hysterical tone. Even
zvhen she shrieks her voice has the Indian-tvom-
an soft tone.)
WOMAN
(Whose words ring truth.)
(High-keyed minor music.)
There's sagebrush yonder, go and hide
Yourselves like hares. The soldiers stride
Like imps, and you're afraid to fight!
The Great Mysterious One gives might
To brave men, you are cowards ! Give
Your guns to women ! Hide and live !
Brave men will gladly die to save
Their wives and babes. You are not brave!
You talk and boast and brag — you speak
Like old-time Heroes, then you'll sneak
Page twenty-t'ifo
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Away, and let your babies die !
You call yourselves brave men. You lie!
That fearful cannon — is it God?
That thing which scares you — is it shod
With wings as cyclones are? God rules
The cyclones. You're afraid of mules !
Brave men you are! If mules but blare
Your hearts are wretched with despair !
Your wives have vowed to kill these men,
Then they will never come again.
We've had a council, we've no fear;
For God, Wakantanka, is here !
"The holy man great Sitting Bull"
Has promised us a miracle.
Leave us the guns ! You go ! We'll fight !
The "holy ones" will give us might !
(Note — This paragraph records the actual
words of the women on this occasion — and they
said much more. My information w this matter,
as on all set dozvn in this play, is first-hand. It
was the valor of the zvomen, no less than the
prophesy of Sitting Bull, which nerved the men
to fight, before they knew there was no cannon
coming.)
GALL
(He alone could truly command.)
Be-gcne and hold your tongue, or I
Will beat you, woman ! Men will die
And win this battle for you. Go !
You bother us. We'll meet the foe!
(She and the other women depart, shrieking
hysterically.)
GALL
(Continuing his speech.)
We'll make a treaty if we can.
If not, we'll fight till every man
Of us is dead. We, in our need,
Are trusting God. They do not heed
The "holy ones" in earth or sky.
We cannot trust their oath. They lie.
(All rise to greet a herald coming.)
Page twenty-three
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Ho!
COUNCIL
(Speaking in unison.)
HERALD.
(Sonorously.)
(Weird, agonizing music.)
Custer had a cannon when
He left the Powder river. Then
Desiring haste, he left it. Soon
He'll be here. Look for him by noon!
GALL
(All are standing.)
They will not fight. They're simply spies !
AN OLD MAN
(Leaning on a cane.)
The vision told us otherwise.
(A bugle is heard in the distance, a herald
comes.)
HERALD
(Excitedly.)
They come ! They fight ! They cross the stream !
Their cruel, bellowing weapons gleam
Like demons in the noontide sun !
GALL
(Listening.)
They fire ! The battle's now begun !
Hunkake ! Call the warriors ! Fight !
The "holy ones" will give us might!
Echonka, guard this place. I'll go
O'er yonder where the bugles blow.
(The curtain falls, and while the sound of bat-
tle is heard in the distance and tiic "holy ones"
give diapason quick music — not singing, but mu-
sic— in a minor key, and the White man's bugle
is heard, Fool-mink comes before the curtain,
dancing and singing hysterically.)
Page twenty-four
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
FOOL- MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
Alas for babes. Alas for wives
Today ! They're shrieking for their lives.
The tepees flutter, flap-flap-flap.
They shriek, "The soldiers, tap-tap-tap !"
If Indians conquer I will say,
My dreams and visions won the day.
If soldiers come, they'll laugh to see
A "happv hooligan" like me.
I'm glad I'm not a warrior, yes,
I'm glad I'm still a bachelor.
For Oh ! 'twould give Fool-mink distress
To kiss his darling wife and leave her !
(Hearing a bugle near, he runs from the stage,
left. A zvoman with a baby in her hands, having
lost her blanket, runs across the stage from right
to left, pauses to look at her baby's face and
sings.)
WOMAN
(Singing.)
Sweet baby darling, I will kiss you ;
When soldiers kill you, I shall miss you.
A bullet passing through the cradle,
Just grazed my baby darling's temple.
(With singing and rythmic handswaying she
lulls the baby into deep sleep.)
The Lullaby (Sioux Indian).
Sleep, baby, sleep and dream,
Sleep, sleep, dream, dream.
Sleep till the prairie rose
Is pink, and morning glows.
Dream till the creatures of the night
Are gene, and morn is bright.
Sleep, sleep, dream, dream,
Baby darling, sleep and dream.
(With a distressed face she gazes right. A
bugle blozvs.)
Page tzventy-Uve
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
WOMAN
(Sonorously.)
They're coming-. Oh ! They're coming, coming !
I hear the wicked bugle blowing !
Where shall I hide you, baby darling?
(She puts the baby under her skirt, and
crouches, facing right, with the look of a wild ani-
mal ready to die defending its offspring. Echonka
coming from the left planks himself before her
on his right knee, and cocks his gun, looking
right. A couple of soldiers appear on the right.
All fire. Echonka 's gun fails to discharge, and a
bullet lays him low. The soldiers disappear. The
woman grabs her baby and rushes left. Winona,
Echonka's lover, running from the left, looks at
him with a distressed face, lifts her hands tozvard
Heaven and shrieks, then she drags him a little
way to the shade of a tree by the river, on the
stage left front. She kneels by his side. The
battle, and the music of the "holy ones" contin-
ues.J
WINONA
(With eyes intent on him.)
Echonka! Oh, he's dead! Awake!
Look up and speak ! My heart will break !
He bleeds ! The bullet pierced his head !
His fingers drop his gun. He's dead !
(While she fondles the limp hand that still
held the gun, when she was dragging him to the
shade of the tree, someone from behind touches
her. Looking, she beholds, Rain-in-the-Facc.
Leaping to her feet she shrieks at him.)
WINONA
(To Rain-in-the-Facc.)
Coward ! Go and fight and die !
You told us you were brave. You lie !
(Before her detesting eyes he slinks away, still
looking back zvith a sickening grin. By a sudden
impulse she grabs Echonka's gun and shoots at
him as he Hces for his life. Then turning to her
lover, she beholds his spirit standing over his
body, but not yet free from his body.)
Page twenty-six
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
WINONA
(To Echonka's, spirit.)
It's you, Echonka, — every feature
Your own. Stay with me, blessed creature !
Don't let the ghosts take you away.
Stay here ! Winona loves you ; stay !
You have to go, you say ? And I —
Stay with me ! Oh, you shall not die !
No balms can heal you?
(She grasps him with her arms.)
These two arms
Of mine shall be the healing balms !
I'll hold you here ! Let go your clutch !
I'll hold him ! Back, you shall not touch
Echonka ! Ghosts of dead men, go !
I'm fainting, Help me, help me ! Oh !
(Swooning, she falls by her lover. Soft weird
music is heard. After a moment Old-woman-
diviner comes along, hobbling with a limb of a
tree for a cane. As she comes she is singing in
a weird tone of voice, Hay-hay-hay-hay-hay-hay-
hay-hay, the ghosts will help them fight today.
Suddenly she observes Echonka and Winona, and
she sings),
Ha ha, the ghosts will have their pay,
For helping mortals fight today.
Two lovers sleeping side by side.
The ghosts will have the pretty bride.
(She goes near and looks at them for a mom-
ent. Then stooping with difficulty she touches
Winona's forehead, and she rises to her knees as
from a dream, and cries. Old-woman-diviner
pats her affectionately, then rubs a salve on
Echonka's wound, speaking.)
OLD-WOMAN-DIVINER
(In a weird tone.)
He'll live. His life was almost gone
Away from you, to that bright dawn
Of spirit light, where warriors rest,
And sing by campfires in the west.
Page twentv-seven
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Your love has held him in this dim
Half-lighted world — you'll marry him.
(Winona cries.)
His almost ghosted soul will drink
The dawn and live, when the rose grows pink
Tomorrow morning. Let him sleep.
If you wake your lover, he will weep.
( Old-zvoman-diviner arises and goes a few
steps, then turns back and pats Winona's cheek.
Then as she departs, Winona bends, over Echon-
ka, crying bitterly, and is unconscious of zvhat
happens. Tzvo "old veterans" cross the stage
from left to right.)
FIRST VETERAN
Which way, Old Com?
SECOND VETERAN
We two
Are left!
FIRST VETERAN
And we're true blue!
SECOND VETERAN
D'you hear that bugle call?
FIRST VETERAN
The flag! It shall not fall!
(They rush to the right toward the faint bugle
call, and in a moment tzvo mere youths enter
from the right. These are the tzvo boys zvho
were slain up in a ravine when the .battle was
really over.)
FIRST YOUTH
All dead ! We two alive !
SECOND YOUTH
We two will charge again !
FIRST YOUTH
We two cannot revive
The dead. Why kill more men?
Page twenty-eight
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SECOND YOUTH
My mother ! Pray for me !
SECOND YOUTH
(Crossing himself.)
St. Mary, pray for me !
(Old-woman-diviner comes onto the stage
from the left, and after looking at Winona and
Echonka, she observes the youths. Too gallant
to fight her they let her club them from the stage,
and as they leave Indians cross the stage pur-
suing them.)
TWO INDIAN YOUTHS
(Shouting together.)
"The holy man great Sitting Bull !
His medicine is wonderful !"
His word is true, they are all dead,
'Ere half one battle-hour has sped.
FOOL-MINK
(Dancing and singing.)
The soldiers dressed in blue are going
Where campfires in the west are glowing.
You'll find them tenting full of glee,
All "happy hooligans" like me.
You'll hear their spirit bugles blowing
By western rivers softly flowing.
You'll find them tenting full of glee,
All "happy hooligans" like me.
WINONA
(Beckoning with childlike simplicity.)
Don't sing any more today, Fool-mink.
Don't sing till the prairie rose grows pink
Tomorrow. Let my lover sleep.
If you wake my lover, he will weep.
(Note. — This description of Winona with the
spirit of Echonka is true to old Indian exper-
ience. I have witnessed similar scenes. No
Whitcman can realize the moods into tvhich In-
dians, were plunged by this battle. It zuas the one
Page twenty-nine
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
real tragedy in their national life. While the
stage is made ready for showing Sitting Bull in
his soliloquy over the body of Custer, appropriate
music should be given, "Faded Coat of Blue,"
"Tenting on the Old Camp Ground," "Custer's
Last Charge," "Garryowcn," or any appropriate
music.)
Page thirty
SCENE IV
SITTING BULL AND CUSTER FACE TO FACE
(The curtain rises just before Sitting Bull,
searching among the dead, has found Custer's
body. It is after sunset. The sound of battle
over by Reno's camp, and of waiting for the dead
in the Indian village can just be heard.)
SITTING BULL
(By Custer's body.)
(Triumphant music.)
Great Yellowhair, the man I feared !
When old-men asked for peace, he jeered
Our claim to valor, would not touch
The peace-pipe. Dead fingers clutch
His weapon now ! Awake, proud man,
Arise and conquer, if you can !
Blow your bugle, call your men,
And fight this battle o'er again !
I have no fear, my men are brave
Enough to hurl you back, and save
This small domain of Indian land
From all the heroes you command !
(Custer's spirit becomes visible, and Sitting
Bull startles.)
SITTING BULL
(With a trembling voice.)
(Mellozv minor-keyed music.)
Mysterious creature, who are you?
A valiant soldier dressed in blue
*
Page thirty-one
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
Is guarding where great Custer fell.
His ghost! What message will he tell?
I see his mingled frown and smile,
The same he had in life. No vile,
Deceiving countenance is his.
A wicked frown for enemies,
A smile for what his heart approves,
While gallantry his nature moves.
And when his countenance is grim
Or pleasing, nature honors him.
He speaks! A kiss is on your brow?
The bliss your nature will allow?
You linger here a little while,
With interchanging frown and smile?
My speech unjust? I fail? Yes!
Defeat secures your happiness?
I see! And tell me — Yes! Belie
Us botn? By tricking I shall die.
When fifteen years have passed? And be
Despised awhile, then men will see?
Kind spirits snatched you from the jaws
Of cruel enemies? Your cause
Was just, but enemies too strong?
They made the right appear the wrong?
(Custer's ghost disappears.)
(Simple, gleeful music.)
Great soldier, I adore your name !
I see that yours was not the blame
For robbing Indians. You were not
Hurled on by selfishness. You fought
Because you was a soldier, died
A soldier. Baser creatures lied.
Your spirit leaped beyond the mark
In valor, plunged into the dark
Gray mists of death before the time.
And yet your noble soul will shine
Forever, clear as morning-dawn,
To beckon youthful heroes on.
My warriors now o'er-leap the mark
Of destined human valor — Hark !
The echoes tell their deeds. They fight
With Reno. This ill-deed will blight
Page thirty-two
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
The vict'ry won, and dim their fame.
The vision told them to refrain.
This morn they prayed to "holy ones."
This eve they trust unhallowed guns.
Heroic deeds alone will fail
At noontide. Evening tells the tale.
Great valor is a cunning spark,
Enticing men beyond the mark.
The daring deeds by which men win
Renown, are harbingers of sin.
Poor man ! His destiny has been
The mark o'er-leaped, the black chagrin.
In all the labyrinth of fate,
Humility alone is great.
Your chagrin has turned to praise.
I must meet malicious days;
For enemies, are cruel creatures.
(With a silk handkerchief given him by Cus-
ter, as Indians say, he covers the dead soldiers
face. The music of the "holy ones" becomes
sublime pathos.)
This handkerchief will guard your features
Against the desert's black'ning heat.
Farewell, great Custer, till we meet !
(Sitting Ball lifts his face and his hands in
prayer. He is silent. The curtain falls.)
Page thirty-three
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
SOURCES
1. All writings of W'hitemen are dismissed. The
Indian view is given.
2. My own knowledge of the Dakotas (Sioux) and
their lansruage.
3. Mmemographic Indian histories. I have one dat-
ing from 1798. I have seen several others, some of
them older than the one I have.
4. First-hand testimony of the Dakotas (Sioux).
5. First-hand testimony of the Indians, enemies of
the Dakotas.
6. First-hand testimony of Canadian Indians who
knew Sitting Bull and his self-exiled followers in their
"black chagrin."
7. First-lhand testimony of various Indians who
knew Custer, and saw his "interchanging frown and
simile," as they call his appearance. Custer knew In-
dian sign language, was fond of Indians, as they were
also of him. Indians throughout the Northwest revere
the name of Custer ; and dismissing the wrangling
writings of Whitemen completely I give their view of
Custer. Indians keenly saw his flaws, and cared noth-
ing for them in the face of what they considered his
true manliness. In the Sitting Bull soliloquy I refer
to Custer twice as a "soldier," because the English
idiom and feeling demands that word. Sitting Bull
did not refer to him as a "soldier." He referred to
him as a "man," which is the loftiest term of appro-
bation, while "not-man" is the meanest term to apply
to a human being. And what shall I say of that
"mystic woods" where Indians see the ghosts of Sit-
ting Bull and Custer tenting by one campfire at even-
ing, and merrily chatting about the "old-times?" The
tragedy of the Dakotas 'has its merriment.
8. The tragedy as acted by the Dakotas (Sioux)
themselves, on the prairie desert with nature's lumin-
aries for lights and the "mellow story" of "holy ones"
for music. Be it known that by old Indian feeling
the tom-tom is nothing else than the incarnate "mel-
low story" of "holy ones." The tragedy as acted
had slightly varying forms, with one backbone, which
is the backbone of this written drama. This acting
of the tragedy was soon prohibited, lest it might lead
Page thirty-four
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
to renewed hostilities. And so Whitemen lost the best
evidence of what was really done on that memorable
day, — and much more. Indians are good actors, superb
in pantomime.
9. In a few cases I 'have been influenced by the
frank statements of sturdy "old-timers." So far as
such men have seen and heard, or even received infor-
mation from Indians when talking freely, I would
put them against any of the writers.
10. I have thought it worth while to carefully note
Dakota (Sioux) children talking about this national
tragedy of theirs, and acting certain parts of it. I
have laughed and cried to see little girls with faces
full of holy mother-instinct, in terror, rushing to hide
their babies (dolls) "so the soldiers won't find them
and kill them," while others crouched to fight, and
still others called wildly, "O where shall I hide my
baby darling!"
11. I have paid attention to the conversations of
old people freely talking among themselves about this
terrific day.
12. Now laugh, if you have the Dakota sense of
merriment! I have thought it worth while to listen
to the statements of ghosts explaining puzzling points
in the tragedy. To such Indian experiences one need
not attribute more than a mental clarification, and
one may attribute more privately while remaining fully
Catholic.
An odd story told by Indians relates to Mrs. Custer.
A black dog, Custer's pet, they say, went home from
the tragedy to Fort Lincoln across country the near-
est way. Though weary and hungry the dog would
not stop for the food offered him by Indians tenting
near the fort. And when Mrs. Custer saw the dog
coming through the front gate she knew that her hus-
band was dead, and she fainted. Custer's spirit, they
say, told the dog to leave his body and go home to
his wife with the news. "Can a dog see a dead man's
spirit?' I asked. The answer was "Yes." I incline
to credit this improbable legend, though it may have
received additions. And if this legend is true, then
three animals connected with this tragedy have a
romance.
Page thirty-five
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
1. Comanche, the horse found trying to cool his
fevered wounds in a waterstream. He has been called
"The only living creature who escaped on the white-
man's side to tell the story." His wounds were healed,
and from that day on he was seen on parade without
a rider.
2. The pet dog who went back to the Custer home
at Fort Lincoln.
3. "The spotted horse who came home without a
rider." This horse was ridden by Little Brave, one
of Custer's faithful Arikara Indian soldiers. When
the horse arrived at the home tent far away, Little
Brave's widow knew that her husband had fallen.
Throwing her arms around the horse's neck she cried,
"Tell me, tell me where he fell, and I will go and die
beside him."
Arikara Indians have a song composed in honor of
this horse and his fallen rider, entitled, "The Spotted
Horse Came Home Without a Rider." I have heard
the thrilling minor strains of this pain-compelling
Indian song.
Page thirty-six
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
PERSONS
1. Custer.
Regardless of all else in his career, and caring noth-
ing about the reasons for the courtmartial proceed-
ings hanging over his head when he went to the
tragedy of his earthly existence I give merely the In-
dian view of him. Indians know that the President
(Tunicanshila) was angry at him for something. That
does not influence their own measure of him. For
generous true justice I would sooner be weighed in
Indian scales than in the scales of a U. S. court-
martial.
2. Tom Custer.
Custer's young brother who died with him in the
tragedy.
3. Gall (Pizi).
The Indian military genius who won the battle for
the Dakotas. Once imprisoned by Miles, as Indians
say, for no crime save that of being a "hostile," he
used his solid sense to learn what he could of U. S.
army warfare, expecting to use his knowledge in be-
half of his own people, in case he was ever set free.
Gall was not a prisoner with Miles. This is an "ad-
venture" of Lame Deer, which is attributed to Gall.
But Gall did spy around forts, propose a plan for try-
ing to steal cannons to be used by Indians in their
own defence, and he once went to Fort with
a vow to kill, either the commanding officer or three
soldiers as "his share of revenge for the Whitemen's
cruelty to Indians." Unable to accomplish his vow
at the time, he more than accomplished it on the day
of the tragedy, as Indians say. Indians so feared the
cannon that if Custer had taken along this one gun
which he left near the mouth of the Rosebud River,
this day's tragedy would not have occurred. "Wakan-
tanka made them leave the cannon, because he wished
to give the Dakotas the victory," Indians say.
For an account of him see "My Friend the Indian,"
by McLaughlin.
4. Echonka.
A youthful warrior (not a chief), as Indians say,
badly wounded when a portion of Custer's cavalry
Page thirty-seven
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
v
charged the lower ford, while some women were help-
ing the defense, and others were hiding their babies,
and still others were wildly doing the strange things
about which Indians still laugh. Living to marry Win-
ona, who snatched him from the battle-line when fallen,
he 'died soon after their marriage from the effects of
his wounds, and Winona died of grief in a few days.
5. Rain-in-the-face.
His mother placed him, tied to the cradle-board out-
side of the tepee for air, and while she forgot him it
rained in his face. Hence his "baby-name." As he
never did anything "worthy of renown," as Indians
thought, he was not given a "noble name," and so he
died with his "baby-name" merely.
He was a typical, wily, unscrupulous ugly Dakota
(Sioux) Indian. Yet withall he was cunning, and not
lacking in ability. Old Indians were not babies, or
"Children grown up," as some will have it. They
knew a few things, and they could reason as well as
a Whiteman. The typical American's superb arrogance,
together with his assumed eutopian "civilization," leads
him to disparage other racial types. By posing as the
slayer of Custer at the World's Fair, Rain-in-the-Face
gained notoriety and money, and Bryant noticed him
with a poem. The Indian who slew Custer lived for
some years a semi-hermit in Montana, and died re-
gretting that he killed "so worthy a man." Hand-
cuffed by Tom Custer at Fort Yates Post because he
boasted that he was the man who killed two certain
men (Did he kill them?), he siwore "I will cut out
Tom Custer's heart and eat it!" To call on the name
of something holy, or touch something holy, or kiss
something' holy, and then speak is to swear by the
custom of the Dakotas. How it is that some people
say there is no way of swearing in the Indian lan-
guages? As regards careless swearing the language
of the Dakotas is limited. In the northwest I have
noted and recorded one hundred and sixty-nine forms
for careless "swearing" in English. By a cunning
ability, truly admirable, Rain-in-the-Face managed to
escape from prison, and being given asylum with Sit-
ting Bull, he became a jealous ingrate. Though claim-
ing to be a warrior, and often boasting of his unusual
Page thirty-eight
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
bravery, he skulked while his people were fighting the
tragedy of their existence. Did he cut out Tom Cus-
ter's heart after the battle was over? Many Indians
say that he did. A Polish dramatist tells me it would
add to my drama to so represent him. Stage artists
can add this feature if they wish to. There is good
authority for it. My own belief is that he did not do
his unhallowed threat. No Indian I have met or heard
of actually saw him with the heart. He boasted in
the camp that he had cut out the heart and so arose
the story, I incline to think. More than other Indians
he feared the spirits of dead men, and I incline to think
he did not go onto the battlefield — much less search
there among the dead for Tom Custer. It is said that
he died reverent. Requiescat in pace.
6. Sitting Bull.
Something win be expected here. And this mono-
gram must be the child of a human heart wedded
with simple passion for Truth. Who will write a
worthy bock about Sitting Bull? It would be wel-
comed, and it would pay the author reasonably.
Defeated, though never fully crushed, what was left
of Sitting Bull became harrowing and disagreeable to
the conquerors of the Dakotas. He could smile if he
wished, but he would not "take refuge in subordina-
tion," as oysters did when a dominant specie gained
the right of way. Something hidden in him precluded
him from exercising this self-evident worldly wisdom.
He was a rebel to the last.
Assassinated in the night because he was trying to
revive the old heathen faith of his fathers which the
Whitemen always treated as a huge joke, the large
degree of fame which he still retained suddenly
drooped. Yet the world does not forget him, and
Indians speak his name with a weird tone of voice,
save when the Whitemen whom they distrust are pres-
ent— and then they do not speak it at all. Will an
Indian cut a tree in the "mystic woods" where his
spirit sometimes comes? Not on your life! He will
sooner go many miles for fire-wood. And there is
a feelinp- among Whitemen that "the truth, the whole
truth, and nothing but the truth" has not been told.
And I promise only to tell the truth to the best of my
Page thirty-nine
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
ability so far forth as I tell anything. Good judges in
Europe pronounce him a great man. President Grant
esteemed him a great man.
There have been various stories regarding the dis-
position of his body. His body froze on the ground
where it fell, because the devotees of the heathen re-
ligion he was reviving, were driven far away by a
cannon shrieking on the hill nearby. Then the men
who were glad for his death put him in an immense
drygoods box, and filling the box -with combustible
material and quicklime, they gave him unhallowed bur-
ial secretly, while the souls of the Christians who fell
in the conflict were receiving the benefits of a mass.
I doubt not that the Reverend Father Bernard, who
celebrated this mass, prayed also privately, with tears
for the soul of Sitting Bull. I know him. The public
outburst of indignation would have precluded any pub-
lic rites whatever for Sitting Bull, and there was a
reason for wishing that what was left of him might
fully disappear immediately. Quickly the housing tepee
of his soul returned to nature's elements. The wooden
slab marking his grave is often replaced because it is
cut away for souvenirs.
Some men have called him a "coward," and worse
names. I think his temperament was normally timid.
I think he lacked physical courage — at times. Yet
there are instances when his heroism leaped to the
acme. On a certain battlefield he sprang to the side
of a fallen "religious brother" (a member of his own
intertribal secret fraternity), and defended him against
the warriors to the complete hazard of his own life.
This history is not from his friends. It is from his
enemies who saw and admired his self-abandonment.
I could cite other instances. It required a strong re-
ligious incentive to arouse Sitting Bull to action.
In his mysticism there was a certain careless phil-
osophy which inclined him to lie down lazily, while
nature's eternal rivers glide past him. He was almost,
but not quite, a fatalist.
More than other Indians even, his life was conscious-
ly entwined with all the life which looks out around
us through countless pleasing facial forms. And he
did not distinguish between life itself and life in its
facial forms. To an Indian the finite contains the
Pa^c forty
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
infinite, and all the creation is compulsory immortality.
To sense nature's every mood and breath so feelingly,
is not all joy. It has its cup of crucial sorrow. For
nature has ber moods, seasons, months and days, as
well as her crying tempests and her mellow morns.
To realize how the Indian temperament is linked with
each frown and smile in nature is to me a constant
passion of surprise. The Indian is not an angel — far
from it ! N'or is he a child. He has matured amid con-
ditions ana environment which hug his heart close to
nature's nursing breast. He has his anti-nature traits,
I think, but they are not so large and terrific as the
same traits in the W'hiteman.
Sitting Bull loved life. The flowers, the birds, the
rivers the zephyrs and the cyclones pleased him.
Even natures terror gave him a thrill of joy. But
nature has certain muffled moods difficult of descrip-
tion to a Whiteman, which give the Dakota heart a
pathos of sorrow, and makes discouragement compul-
sory and painful. The Holy Scripture warns us not
to be righteous overmuch, lest it may lead to destruction,
and I have felt, while with Indians, that one had bet-
ter not nurse at holy nature's breast too constantly,
lest the pain engendered may become unendurable. I
have felt that there is a certain individual self-
hood which is intended bv the Creator, if we can in
any way find out what that self-hood is.
Unlike some Indians, Sitting Bull spoke with dread
of the last plunge into those "dark grey mists where
spirits sometimes wail in constant grief for many
years," as Indians characterize that place called in
their own language "Wanasriyakonpi." Some Indians
face death with admirable braverv. some even with
temerity, but Sitting Bull faced it with painful timid-
ity. My authority for this statement is good. The
grieving premonition that he was destined to die "by
the tricking of enemies" antedates the Custer battle by
many years. And such a death, by Indian thought, en-
tails ill-results in the future world. As the time ap-
proached when he feared bis end drew near he chose
a locality with an eye to repelling an attack. He would
not leave home if a dream or an omen seemed unpro-
pitious. Other Indians are inclined to act in a similar
way. Are any Whitemen so inclined ? He was one of
Page forty-one
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
the most suspicious men in existence. Canadian In-
dians have told me humorous anecdotes of his intense
suspicions while they were befriending him in his exile.
He returned to the United States with misgivings, but
he could not do otherwise than return.
He was looking for further trouble with the White-
man. His hopes of the Dakota nationality did riot
perish when everything human showed that their reali-
zation was impossible. Secretly he was watching for
an opportunity to renew .the hostilities. And he was
aware that the frontier Whiteman, almost as keen-
sighted as an Indian, knew his secret purposes. His
belief that he was divinelv commissioned to maintain
the old Dakota nationality intact overshadowed ev-
erything else to the last. And personal ambition, not
lacking in him, yielded only to his conception of the
welfare of the Dakotas and his overwhelming sense of
Deity. Do not think he was a fool or a child — he
knew the inconceivable odds against him.
Sitting Bull was not a "warrior." He was a "medi-
cine-man," an Indian prophet. The term "medicine-
man" for an Indian prophet, is unfortunate, and this
term is partly responsible for the Indian religion be-
ing so completely treated as a joke. But this term is
fixed, and it cannot be changed. Whitemen have
dubbed tnat beautiful lake Miniwakan (Mysterious-
water) with their unhallowed term "Devils Lake." By
analogy they would have called Wakantanka (the
Great Mysterious One) big devil. Thanks that irrev-
erence halts somewhere! A "medicine-man" is not
supposed to engage in the battles. He prays to "holy
ones" while others fight. And to this day the Dakotas
dislike seeing a priest or a minister with a moustache,
because "it makes him look like a soldier" as, they
say. So no Indian will charge Sitting Bull with cow-
ardice for not engaging in the Custer battle. This
charge comes from Whitemen, who, failing to realize
the old reverence for oracles, regard Sitting Bull's
performances as tricks. Something of this irreverence
had crept into Sitting Bull's camp even. Some White-
men treat all priestly functions lightly and regard the
mass, even, as clever legerdemain. And they forget
that some people still have reverence tor oracles. Ir-
reverence cannot appreciate reverence.
Page forty-tn<o
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
If a man is familiar with the primitive ethnic re-
ligions, or if he has read St. Paul, he will realize that
the 'heathen sometimes do by nature those things which
are commanded in the Biblical law. A Catholic realizes
that religion antedates all written law, and that even
miracles cf power and of glory are possible among
the heathen, while the miracle of grace only is exclus-
ive to Calvary, which is not restricted to the geo-
graphical Calvary or even to this pleasing world of
facial life, in its extended influence. Personally and
privately, I would not say that grace, is entirely re-
stricted to the Christian dispensation. This is my pious
opinion— riot a theological dogma. Space forbids more.
Sitting Bull, I think, did possess unusual powers in
the heathen oracular devination. My sense of truth
requires this statement. I study his well attested words
and acts in the light of what I myself have seen among
Indians. At times his soul seemed to leave his body
in part, while his body became somewhat rigid, and
travel far away to regions where he beheld the move-
ments of men and heard their thoughts as if they were
speaking them in words. Difference of language seems
to have been no impediment. Besides such an ex-
perience as this, there are many other things, including
the foretelling of future events, which I can account
for only on the ground that miracles of power and
miracles of glory are allowed to occur among the
heathen as well as among Christians. And I am in-
clined to think that such miracles occur more fre-
quently among the heathen. In their lack of the one
ever perpetuated miracle of grace, they have more
painful need for other miracles. The power of Deity is
not restricted.
It is remarkable that when Sitting Bull was describ-
ing' Custer's movements and appearance at dawn June
25, 1876, Custer was actually approaching the battle-
field, having marched all night. I am assured of this
fact by Indian scouts who were with Custer, and of
many things more. On this particular morning Sitting
Bull's oracle was reluctant to respond, and be fell into
discouragement, -while his enemies were not displeased.
He had personal enemies in the camp. He was by no
means the absolute ruler which some careless students
have thought him to have been. The oracle finally
Page forty-three
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
kPT
responded, and besides describing the movements of
Custer and certain of his supposed utterances, it closed
with the statement "Yellowhair will come today. He
will fight. He and all fighting with him will be slain."
In describing these things the drama uses literary
liberty.
Having said thus much regarding Sitting Bull's
oracle, I will add more. I have to believe that Sitting
Bull, being in a dilemma, persisted in the oracle of
his fathers to the exclusion of Christianity, when his
own soul told him better. He failed to touch that
point of complete self-renunciation where a human-
being's soul can become fully sincere. Forgive me,
spirit of Sitting Bull, if I misunderstand you. And
if any taint of human arrogance repelled you from the
Christian altar while you were living, you are wel-
come now to share the Sacrifice offered in behalf of
the living and the dead to our God and your God,
through the Holy One of Calvary.
I have it on good authority that Sitting Bull not
infrequently prayed to Jesus, and that he spoke of St.
Mary as a human incarnation of that mystical "Mother"
whom all the old-time Dakotas were taught to adore.
The old faith of the Dakotas is fundamentally Catholic.
And note carefully that among all American Indians
it was esteemed blasphemy to oppose any form of reli-
gion. Indians travelled much, and so knew geography
and history well (see Matthews' book on the Hidatsa),
and they heartily shared whatever religious rites they
met. This comity did not spring from any such idea
as the Aryan-older-Semitic notion of localized Deity.
It was the natural sequence of the Indian thought of
universal Deity. To the Indian everything from the
summer or autumn leaf to the rock in the desert, is
living, sentient and personal, while Deity is universal.
That they do not state these things systematically or
logically counts for nothing. The Indian knows as lit-
tle of metaphysics as the W'hiteman does of the In-
dian mysticism. With a certain personal-mysticism the
Indian travels a territory quite similar to that which
the Whiteman tries to travel with his metaphysics.
Each of these languages seems foreign to the other.
Young Indians educated in college lose the Indian
Page forty-four
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
mysticism and do not grasp the W'hiteman's meta-
physics.
With this ancestral teaching plus his own real rev-
erence for Jesus and for 'St. Mary, how could Sitting
Bull positively oppose Christianity? He did certainly
speak bitterly of it at times. I have several of his re-
ported sayings, and a few of them are inserted in this
drama (regretfully), because Truth in her immortal
splendor, must be adored.
Sitting Bull felt that the Church was in some way
leagued with the U. S. government in crushing the
Dakota nationality. He felt that the preservation of
his nation required the positive opposition of a form
of religion which he really believed. He also felt
that the requirement of the Church that he should
utterly abandon the religion of his fathers in order to
share the rites of the Church was arbitrary. And there
was also in his nature a superb self-hood which made
it difficult for him to yield his soul to the influence
or touch of any law which he had not personally ap-
proved. Such a unique self-hood in a Wihiteman has
to become aggressive and even dictatorial, but in an
Indian it simply says, "Please let me alone." Was
there ever a democrat among Whitemen? I mean
a man who is perfectly willing his neighbor may do
exactly as he pleases, and will heartily esteem his
neighbor's way just as good as his own, requiring
only that he shall not touch him with a heavy hand?
Sitting Bull came nearer to being a true democrat
than any other man I know in history. While he had
a certain amount of respect for the Protestant re-
ligion, he feared an occult power in the Catholic
church, and his opposition to it gave him uneasy
qualms. He had once received Catholic baptism, and
the thought of that baptism never forsook him. A
certain reverend Father thinks I am wrong in this
statement, but I am not. I know my authority. A
deathbed proved me right regarding another old In-
dian and if Sitting Bull had lived to die natural
death, this statement of mine would have been justi-
fied by his own lips.
He was anxious to meet other Indian prophets, and
he did not quarrel with them. He was their receptive
pupil. He was as alert for special divine manifesta-
Page forty-live
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
tions in all human nature as in "inanimate nature."
Why not? To an Indian "inanimate nature" and ani-
mal nature and human nature are all of the same
large genus. He liked children. Women were fond
of him. He was moral by the Dakota standards. In-
dians make much of the idea of humility, but often
fail in its exercise. Sitting Bull was a humble man, by
the Dakota standards. His apparent lack of humility
among W'hitemen was due to his lasting determination
never to become subordinate to them, and to his irri-
tation at their assumed superiority over him and his
people. He did a few things through ill-advice from
White persons. If a priest could have approached him
on terms of perfect personal and religious equality
he woind have been an apt pupil. But how could the
Catholic religion in her historicity put herself on pre-
cisely the same level with any heathen religion ? The
Apostles would have turned in their graves ! If a
Protestant minister approached him with any such ap-
parent equality, he knew the insincerity. Whatever
of insincerity in his own nature, he easily saw it if
in others. Like other human beings, he respected what
he partly feared.
Whatever his Messianic idea borrowed from the
Church, it was founded in the old Indian idea that the
human-being-lord may become incarnate as a man.
His last effort, thougn completely religious in na-
ture, must have led to an insurrection, even if his as-
sassination had not precipitated this event. Who can
rise to the point of always putting Truth first, and let-
ting self and beloved nations perish? There is only
one Christ. Expediency entoils us all. The Indian
conception of universal Deity plus his conception of
immanent sentient-personal life allows more than one
incarnation of the human-being-lord. One Christ, lo-
cated geographically and confined to one era is dis-
harmonious with the old Indian thought. Sitting Bull's
Messiah was to be a reappearance of the same Holy
One who had already appeared as Jesus. His words,
as reported by those who heard, show this clearly.
No matter how somebody else west or south taught this
Messiah idea, I am stating how Sitting Bull taught it.
This Messiah would rebuke the Wniteman for his
assumed right to rule over other nations, and especially
Page forty -six
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
for his lack of "Wa-chan-tki-yapi" (human-being-love),
which is one of the highest soul-virtues, while bravery
is the highest action-virtue. He did not teach that
this Messiah would "crush the Whiteman and all his
works," as was so constantly stated. This Holy One
would crush (ka ju ju), wipe out (pa ju ju), destroy
(hankeya), and wipe away (pahinta) the Whiteman's
rule over other nations, and, among other deeds, would
restore the Dakota nationality. Besides the evidence
of his words as Indians heard them, we must remem-
ber that the destruction of any human being, or ani-
mal or plant, is impossible by Indian thought. The
geographic cataclasm was to extend eastward merely
to the "Old Missouri River." The misrepresentation
regarding his teaching arose from carelessness, sen-
sationalism, mismteripretaton, desire of interpreters to
please, willful wrong interpretation, the humor of the
Whiteman, the nervousness of the times the constant
desire of the Whiteman to make the Indian absurd
in everything, the Whiteman's desire for an excuse for
crushing a movement which must result in rebellion,
and, to some extent, I think, from the exaggerated
statements of his own followers.
Sitting Bull never originated any national policy.
He maintained the traditional policy of the Dakotas,
that is of the "western Sioux." This policy was and
had been for several generations, the policy of com-
plete isolation. They had an organized system for
obtaining and disseminating news from abroad.
They took no interest in the British-American war,
1812. They took no interest in the Prairie du Chien
council, 1813. They took no interest in "Pontiac's con-
spiracy," so called. Traditions and mnemographic rec-
ords show that they knew of these things, but their
fixed policy was that of complete isolation. They
would let other people alone, and fight them out of
their own territory at any cost. As they formerly
claimed an immense territory they had a plenty to
do in guarding their own borders. They did not con-
sider the Yanktons as any part proper of the real
"Sioux nation." They associated the Yanktons with
the Hidatsa and the Crows, their enemies. They did
finally tolerate the Yanktons, but never trusted them.
So strange that writers assume that these Yanktons
Page forty-seven
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
were the principal part in some way of the Sioux !
Who will write a fairly decent history of the Sioux?
As early as 1850 the Western Sioux (Sitting Bull's
people), came to distrust the Eastern Sioux, because
they did not adhere to the traditional policy of isola-
tion, but "mingled with Whitemen and encouraged them
westward," as they phrased it.
The Western Sioux as a people took no interest in
the Civil War, not because they were so barbarous
that they knew nothing, as some seem to think, but
because they were following a fixed policy. They had
nothing to do with the "Minnesota Massacre," as it
is called. If any individuals participated, and I doubt
if they did, still my statement is true as to the national
policy. I have seen a mnemographic record showing
how certain individuals were punished for advocating a
departure from this old policy of the Dakotas.
A whole volume must be passed over at this point.
Sitting Bull arose as the sturdy advocate and de-
fender of this old national policy when it seemed
imperilled. And this sturdy old heathen clung to this
policy of his forefathers till the bullet put him to
sleep. If success instead of failure could have crowned
his efforts, what a figure he would have been in his-
tory !
Another whole volume must be omitted here.
He, as well as his people, believed that the "stock-
men" were using the U. S. government with its armies,
together with the influence of the Church, indirectly,
as a tool for robbing them of their treaty lands along
the "old Missouri River," and crowding them back
into the Badlands where they must perish. How far
were they correct in their belief? Sitting Bull believed
that a battle bravely fought and won would save the
people from the impending catastrophy.
Don't tnink they were assembled on the Little Big
Horn by chance ! Reduced to subordination, and fear-
ing hanging, what could they do but claim this? The
battle-ground was well chosen, and the position was
changed as the armies approached. They knew the
moves of the U. S. armies. Custer was scouted long-
before he reached the scene of his tragic death. The
battle was truly a surprise in the sense that Gall and
the other chiefs did not expect it till a much larger
Page forty-eight
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
force had arrived. It required Sitting Bull's utmost
effort to hold them to the approaching battle. I do
not believe that Sitting Bull ever talked with any
Whiteman regarding the battle. All honor to him for
his silence ! He did converse with some Indians re-
garding the battle both in America and in Canada,
and the statements of those with whom he talked is
the best possible evidence of what he thought. He
most sincerely believed that the victory was won by a
miracle from God. The Dakotas old and young, believe
that generally to this day. If God had given such a
victory once in a few minutes by a miracle, why might
He not give another victory against any odds? This was
what made Sitting Bull a dangerous man, dangerous
to the Whiteman's interests, I mean.
After the battle Sitting Bull forbade any mutilation
of the dead. Not a man with Custer was mutilated. He
forbade the attack on Reno. For victors to have re-
frained— what a more than human spectacle! After
Sunset he went to the body of Custer, while the braves
were over by Reno's camp, and "talked with his ghost
and prayed for a small half-hour." I have it on the
statement of women who saw him there. White people
will discredit the Indian belief that Sitting Bull went
to Custer's body and was told by Custer's ghost that
he would die by the tricking of his enemies in fifteen
years. But it is not easy to say, a priori, what Sitting
Bull would or would not doi and we must not make
the common mistake of measuring an Indian's knowl-
edge by his lack of the Whiteman's means of obtaining
knowledge. It was said of humanity's most sacred
One, "How knoweth this man letters, having never
learned?" Be this as it may, the utterances in the so-
liloquy over Custer's body ari based on Sitting Bull's
own words regarding the affair, as they were heard
by Dakotas (Sioux) and by Canadian Indians.
I could cite valid reasons showing Custer's desire
not to be recognized by the hostile Indians while on
this expedition. Indian folklore says, "Custer gave
Sitting Bull a gun and took from him a bow," and
"Custer did not wish to go on this expedition against
the Indians, but made him do it." And
folklore further asserts that Custer being mortally
wounded by a shot from — "he killed him-
Page forty-nine
SITTING BULL-CUSTER
J
t'
self (with a gold handled pistol." He knew Indians.
He did not fear torture as some suppose. Indians
would have tried to heal his wounds, and would have
made a sort of demigod of him. They did know him,
and would gladly have taken him alive. They believed
Custer was destined to become president of the United
States-, and that as president he would deal justly with
them. They were sorry for his death. The Sitting
Bull prophecy that he would die, and this immediate
battle, with his death, filled Indians with terror. For
a man of Custer's nature to allow himself to be taken
alive while the other soldiers had fallen fighting, is
inconceivable.
A great hunter, he gave away his game freely to the
poor. I have talked with some of those who had his
game. During the battle he wag just behind the village
in the hills .praying to "holy ones." He was twelve
miles away? Have it so, if you will! This old
heathen's lips are sealed. He can't answer. Sitting
Bull was a "teetotaler." The lines in re whiskey are
his own words abridged. Indians believe generally
that whiskey destroys occult vision.
I
Page fifty
-t-
J
a
i *
!4^
t
*•
#
>
-*■
I
~2*
*
r
v~
-
-a
E:
x
- i
■
1
^^B
J
•^:«~^
o
■
*
'"* *
fc
■V v
Jrr**
k.
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11